


Bill The Boomer

by dontgoawaymad



Series: Casablanca Plaza [2]
Category: Mötley Crüe, Skid Row (US Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Shopping Malls, someone give nikki a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontgoawaymad/pseuds/dontgoawaymad
Summary: the workday's going pretty smooth for tommy at thunderbolt coffeehouse, until he gets an unpleasant customer
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: Casablanca Plaza [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Bill The Boomer

it was a normal day at thunderbolt coffeehouse for sharei styles. things were a little busier than usual, although, sharei didn’t mind seeing a few extra faces. her and tommy, her mentor, usually switch between the cashier position. sharei had been working at thunderbolt for a week and a half, now. she already taught yoga, but the pay just wasn’t enough.

working beside her was her coworker, tommy. he was tall had long brunette hair, a tight lipped smile, and was boyish to the max! sometimes, he would bring wooden drumsticks and bang on the counter during his breaks. it ticks everyone off, but it didn’t bother shaeri that much.

shaeri tried her best to craft the new monthly special: butterflypea flower cloud tea. the drink was coming pretty popular, already! by the end of the day, sharei’s fingers are stained blue! sharei struggled to place a dried, blue flower ontop of the cup of foamy tea. the tweezers felt especially tiny in her hands. it landed just in the center of the foam. the customer went up to collect their drink.

“thank you for choosing thunderbolt, have a good day!” sharei chirped, her caribbean accent lacing her gentle voice. just then, a middle aged man with a tan resembling that of a pizza crust came up to the counter. “good morning, and welcome to thunderbolt! ma-”

“what in god’s name is that?” the man asked, pointing to the unsuspecting customer’s drink.

“that… is our butterflypea flower cloud tea: this month’s special!”

“i don’t understand…” he shook his head in disgust.

“may i take your order, sir?” sharei continued.

“i want a black coffee.” he enunciated every word of his order. “none of that rainbow frappadappa _crap!” wow,_ harsh much?

“what size would you like?”

“and what the hell is oat milk, anyway?”

“sir…” shaeri tried to get his attention, but the man kept rambling on.

“the only milk i’ll drink comes from _cows-_ ” she started to grow tired of this old wrinkly person.

” _sir_ , what size?“

"large.” the man snapped. shaeri felt a little intimidated.

“your total comes to $1.15.” he practically let the money fall onto the counter. shaeri quickly poured the coffee into a large cup. she basically was trembling just making eye contact with him. “h-have a nice day, sir.”

“and you,” the man pointed at tommy, “cut your hair.”. tommy weakly chuckled, and then rolled his eyes. he hated him as much as her.

“yikes,” shaeri got on her toes to get to tommy’s height. “who was _that?”_

“that’s just bill.” tommy responded.

“bill?”

“yeah, he always picks fights when no one asks him to.” he ran his tattooed hands through his hair. “i hate him.”

“can you step behind the cashier while i run to the toilet?”

“sure thing!” tommy was now doubling as the cashier, and the barista. the ladies’ room was on the other side of the mall, so he knew she would be a while. the little bell on the door rang. rachel bolan, a man that looked a little like tommy (sans teased hair) strutted through. he had an age regressing girlfriend named luna, who worked at the tattoo parlor. 

“tommy!”

“rachel! how’s it hanging?”

“things are good; the babe’s getting promoted on tuesday!” rachel calls luna “the babe” because they both love the movie labyrinth.

“tell luna i said congrats!” tommy gave him a fistbump over the counter. “so, what can i get for you?”

“large strawberry frappe with a pump of vanilla.”

“five bucks.” that does sound a bit much for a frappe, but this coffeehouse _is_ run by gene simmons. “dude, this guy came up to me and told me to cut my hair.”

“really? 90% of the dudes in this mall have long hair.”

“exactly!” tommy conversed with rachel as he mixed his drink. “his name is bill.”

“you don’t say.”

“whenever i see his stocky ass come through that door, i’m already pumping out that black coffee.”

“how many hours of sleep do you get?“ you may be having stress hallucinations.”

“i’m getting enough to not have stress hallucinations.”

“i mean, unless you’re talking about bill _y_ , then i would just be shocked.” billy works in the same tattoo parlor as luna… and looks _nothing_ like bill. tommy didn’t even know where he got that from.

“nope, bill _y_ gets cinnamon macchiatos and doesn’t talk. bill is an ass.”

“tell me more about this bill person.” rachel leaned on the counter as he put two straws in his pocket.

“sometimes, i refuse to believe he’s real. it’s like he’s some sort of man out of a boomer comic.”

“really?”

“i try to be as nice as possible, but he doesn’t have any of it.”

"guess there’s just no pleasing in some people.” rachel sighed.

“also, have you seen nikki?” nikki’s also a regular; about my height, spiky brown hair… gorgeous as _fuck!!_ he’s so cool, i lowkey look up to him.

“i think that’s him.” rachel went to the window overlooking the parking lot. after he followed rachel, tommy couldn’t believe who he saw him with! 

_~two days later~_

***tommy’s pov***

i can't get the picture of nikki in the parking lot out of my head. i haven’t spoken to him in literally almost a week. i have to admit, i missed making his usual mochas. it was a _super_ slow day in thunderbolt; half of my day so far was pretending that there’s stuff i gotta do.

“mr. simmons, i’m going on break!” i told my boss through the window of his tin can of an office. he gave me a thumbs up without saying a word. whatever he’s looking at on his computer, it was probably _very_ intriguing. i don’t think mr. simmons even _saw_ me. i think he’s looking at something in his “special file”. i hung up my apron, and went to the food court.

the food court at casablanca has an… interesting variety, so to speak. there’s the rare bonchon chicken, a playa bowls for the surfer girl jersians. but of course, no mall is complete without sketchy chinese food! the only way it’s edible is if you’re high on paint fumes. the food court needs serious remodeling, because it’s the most _crowded_ area in the mall. i swear, every other day, i’m finding a dirty diaper on a seat, or there are four different birthday parties happening at once! among the possibly hundreds of people, i see none other than nikki sixx sitting alone. with his half open skull buttonup, and skinny jeans that show off his amazing thighs… and he’s just sitting there! could he be thinking about… me? oh my god, he possibly couldn’t! …unless? oh wait, it’s because he’s looking at me. *sigh* this man is a dreamboat in a hormone storm at sea!!

“nikki!!”

“tommy!!” he motions for me to come over to his table. i’m not even that hungry; who needs food when you have nikki sixx?!

“man, it feels like i haven’t seen you in ages!” i pull up a vacant chair and sit across from him. “how was your weekend?”

“i stayed at my parents’ and played guitar hero with some old friends from high school.” sometimes, when i’m just passing by the arcade, i’ll find nikki playing guitar hero. the way he looks so concentrated and dedicated, i love it! i heard he’s also a bassist, but i’ve never heard him play! “but then,” he sighed.

“but then what?”

“i told you my dad plays guitar, right?” nikki’s dad always wanted to be the next elvis, but the dream didn’t work out for him. apparently, his guitar playing is the musical equivalent of a cat being dragged up the freeway. “he came home and started berating us on how guitar hero isn’t real music, or whatever.” nikki shrugged, angrily picking at his bourbon chicken with a plastic fork.

“it’s a rhythm game!”

“yeah, he has all sorts of sayings.” …hold the fuck a minute: i have the sudden need to ~investigate~, if you’re catching my drift.

“like what?”

“my dad says stuff like, “it’s not real whatever if it doesn’t this, that, and the other!” “. nikki laughed at the thought of his dad bitching around. “he lives in this permanent ‘30s, ‘50s mindset, and it drives me _insane!”_

“does your dad like coffee?” i decided to change the subject just a little.

“only if it’s pitch black and piping hot!” i could feel my throat start to close up just thinking about my next question.

“w-…what’s your dad’s first name?” i managed to somehow croak out.

“…it’s bill, why?” i didn’t have a drink on me, but if he did, i would be spitting it onto the floor like a fountain!! “tommy?” there’s _no way in hell_ that’s his father! that means he had sex with a woman and made _that!_ did bill even know that his son would turn out to be like _this?!?!_ oh my god,my mind has been _blown!!_

”are you alright?”

“he- you-… you _can’t_ be serious!!”

“what?” i shot him a look that cried “are you motherfucking serious right now?!”. “oh, yeah, _that._ get it all the time.”

“really?!” 

“ “you look nothing like your dad!” “but, you’re so sweet, how could you be related to him?!” and yadda, yadda.”

“took the words right out my mouth.” if i really, really wanted to, i could flip every single table in this food court. but, i would probably lose my job if i did. “how do you put up with him?! i mean, with his constant nagging and all?”

“i don’t.” nikki sighed. “i come here to get away from him, but he always finds me.”

“listen, i know nothing i can say will make your dad situation any better. but, here at casablanca, all your worries melt away, alright?” i patted him on the shoulder.

“alright.”


End file.
